Do You Remember the Onceler?
by ghost-of-a-scarecrow
Summary: Ted's off to visit with the Once-ler, only to find that he and the Lorax are having a disagreement about something. The Once-ler won't let the Lorax tell Ted what it is. Ted wants to know, but he finds that he doesn't like the answer at all. Not slash! I'm putting a warning on this, but only because it might be sad for sensitive readers.


**A/N: Well, this story's been a long time in the making. I hope it's all right, I just wanted to do a one-shot, though it turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. Anyway, I warn you that it might be a bit sad, please don't hate me for it. It's a slash-free, non-alternate universe little story that I hope you all enjoy! Reviews are always welcome!**

* * *

There was no way I could suppress my excitement; it was as though it were bursting from the seams of my skin... which doesn't really make any sense but I don't really care. I was just excited! I couldn't wait to show the Once-ler the school assignment I had brought home. I would need his help with it, but he'd probably be excited about it too. Or maybe not, but I needed his help anyway. I tore through my dinner as fast as I could in hopes of getting over to the Once-ler's Lurkim just a few minutes faster.

"Whoa, Ted honey, chew your food," Mom said when I nearly choked on the jello-ish substance lightly swaying on my plate. "It's not like he's going anywhere. Five minutes won't change anything." Unfortunately, I had to admit that she was right. The Once-ler didn't usually stray too far from his Lurkim. I asked him once why that was, and he told me he did; I simply never came when he was away. It was the sort of logic I was used to receiving from him, but I didn't believe it for a minute. I had caught him outside before, but not farther than the river in which the Humming-Fish swam. A few times I thought that I even heard him talking to them. I had come to regard him as a bit eccentric in such ways.

I gulped down the last of my appetizingly bright blue food and scrambled out of the chair's clutches, leaping across the room with a "Bye, Mom! Bye Grammy!" as I snatched up my helmet and the project and bolted out the front door. I hopped onto my one-wheeler and clipped on my helmet, rolling up the assignment sheet to place in my jacket pocket. It was still fairly light out, though it wouldn't last very long.

Now that the walls surrounding Thneedville had been knocked down and the roads fairly cleared of Super-Axe-Hackers, as well as a new bridge in the process of being built over the rather large crevice that I had previously failed to jump over; it was much easier to navigate my way to the Once-ler's Lurkim. I was thankful for that, as I went to visit quite often; sometimes I even brought Audrey with me. She was slightly nervous the first time she came along, but they seemed to have gotten on fairly well.

I made my way down the road, passing the pole with the various signs that read such things as "Keep Out," "Danger" and "I Mean It." I almost laughed; he still hadn't bothered to take them down. I guess I can't really blame him, though. He's not really used to having a lot of visitors. There are still a ton of people in Thneedville that won't come out this far; they're too scared of what they might find. So I suppose there's no real point in taking them down yet anyway. Next I passed the sign that read "The Street of the Lifted Lorax." It had been uprooted from its previous spot, straightened and cleaned, and stuck back in the ground a little more invitingly. I often wondered if the Once-ler had made it himself, originally.

I came upon his Lurkim, which still loomed over the landscape, though it loomed much less ominously than before... and without the fog. I parked my one-wheeler and pulled the assignment out of my pocket as I walked towards the door. The Once-ler had been promising to take the booby-trap off of it since the day I came to visit after planting the seed, but he hadn't done it yet. Personally, I think he just enjoyed watching me fly through the air when I'd forgotten to be cautious. I pressed the doorbell and leapt out of the way, not waiting to hear if the gears on the other side were turning. I tentatively stood back up on my feet. The mallet had once again hammered into the porch and the loose beam stood frozen where it had sprung up. Imagine that. It was all still there. I waited impatiently for the old man to come down the stairs and open the door with a sly grin, which would quickly disappear into a look of innocence once he came outside. A full two minutes later, I decided that he probably wasn't coming to the door, so I hopped off of the porch and ran through the grass towards the river. That was always the second place I checked. I passed through the steadily maturing Truffula trees, not failing to take note of each tree's beauty as I ran by them. They truly were as magnificent as the Once-ler had described in his story, even if they were only a year old and slightly above my head.

I found him sitting on the bank of the river, pant legs rolled up and feet in the water. As I came to a stop I noticed the bright orange Lorax sitting beside him in much the same manner. They were talking about something; the Lorax seemed a little upset. The Once-ler, however, had calmly taken to listening with carefree interest and seemed to be trying to appease the Lorax's mood. I tried to catch a snippet of their conversation, but the Once-ler spotted me before I could hear anything.

"Hello, Ted," he said, patting the ground beside him. I walked over and sat down in the grass, noticing as the Lorax gave the Once-ler one last "This conversation is _so_ not over" look before consigning to a different topic. I was quiet for a moment, staring at the paper in my hands, but my thoughts had strayed somewhere else entirely.

"What's that?" the Lorax asked, pointing at the paper. I was surprised out of my thoughts, but wasn't quite all there yet, so the Once-ler gently pried the paper from me and looked it over.

"What does it say?" the Lorax asked. The Once-ler handed the paper over. The little orange fuzzball took it momentarily before giving it back.

"You know I can't read," he said. The Once-ler simply gave him an amused look and set the paper on my lap.

"Do I? You've failed to prove it on several occasions," he said in return. The Lorax just waved a dismissive hand.

"He can read," The Once-ler told me, fully aware of the Lorax's reproachful look, "He just thinks someone else should read it for him." I grinned when the Lorax uttered a disapproving "Hmph."

"So, Ted, are you here for help with that project, or do you have an alternative motive?" the Once-ler asked, turning to me. I didn't know why, but my excitement had decreased significantly; maybe it was because my curiosity as to what their prior conversation had been about had taken its place. I've never really seen the Lorax that upset with the Once-ler before, and it was bugging me. I glanced up into his questioning eyes and nodded slowly.

"You're going to have to be a little bit clearer than that."

"I'll need help with the project," I said sheepishly. The Lorax gave us both quizzical looks.

"You still haven't told me what's on the paper, Beanpole," he said to the Once-ler.

I had often pondered about that nickname, but never asked. It just seemed to be expected by now that they called each other these odd nicknames. 'Beanpole' and 'Mustache'. I always laughed at the latter, but the Lorax didn't seem to mind too much.

"So what's the paper about?" the Lorax asked again when his previous attempt at the question went unanswered.

"I have to classify as many species of both Truffula trees and wild animals as I can find, then draw pictures of each of them. You know, what with all of the new trees around, it's sort of a hot topic in school," I answered, my excitement of the project returning. Audrey was going to help me with the pictures... not that I couldn't draw at all but it was still an excuse to go see her. I just needed help with the whole identifying part. I knew about the Swomee-Swans and the Humming Fish, but I had never seen what the Once-ler and the Lorax called a 'Bar-ba-loot.'

"That doesn't sound too hard," the Lorax said. He stood up and motioned to the Truffula tree behind him.

"This," he said with emphasis, "is a rare Blue-Tufted Truffula tree." The Once-ler leaned over to me and whispered, "Just call them by the colour of their tufts." He said it loud enough for the Lorax to hear, and the guardian of the forest's reaction wasn't disappointing.

"Hey, who's the tree expert here?" he said in the Once-ler's direction. The old man merely smiled and gestured a hand towards his smallish friend. The Lorax nodded.

"Thank you," he said and went on to name trees such as the 'Pink-Tufted Truffula' tree and the 'Orange-Tufted Truffula' tree. I sat and listened until I got a little bit bored as the Lorax went on to state particulars about each type, which were pretty much the same for every tree. Taking off my shoes and socks and rolling up the legs of my jeans, I dipped my feet into the water of the river, taking note of how cool and smooth it was as it ran through my toes. The sun was almost out of sight by now, the sky having been lit up by the various colours of natural rays that poured over the landscape. There were pinks, purples, bright reds and oranges. They relayed a feeling of tranquility, filling me with the desire to stay and watch it go on forever. Shadows fell softly from the Truffula trees and slunk away in the opposite direction from the sun. And then, as soon as it had all begun, the brilliant shades faded to green, to blue, to black, and were gone. It was a very surreal experience, the sunset. I glanced over at the Once-ler. He was half-smiling, and I couldn't help but smile myself in the tranquility of the moment. I'd never reveal to my mother (or Grammy, for that matter) that I had ever watched the sunset. It would just be another thing to tease me good-naturedly about.

After quite a long time, the Lorax noticed we weren't listening to him anymore and came to sit beside us without a further word. As the last traces of a lighter blue hue disappeared behind the hills of the Truffula valley, the Once-ler stood.

"Well, that was nice," he said, stretching a bit and cracking a few bones in the process. He then went to retrieve his shoes from under one of the closer Truffula trees and slipped them on. I followed suit as the Lorax made a comment on the pointlessness of covering your feet when you've got grass under them.

"You have fur covering your feet," The Once-ler pointed out.

" 's not the same thing," the Lorax replied. The Once-ler smiled and turned in the direction of his Lurkim.

"Well, would you look at that," he said, pausing momentarily to gawk at the place he called home. The Lorax and I turned our gazes in that direction.

"Um," I started, "Why is there a swarm of Swomee-Swans on your roof?"

"They're very intuitive creatures," the Lorax said.

"What do you mean?" I asked. The Lorax opened his mouth as if to answer, then shut it again as he glanced over at the Once-ler. I turned to see the Once-ler quickly replace his look of warning with a practised and far less readable expression. I looked at him quizzically, demanding an answer.

"He's right, you know," the old man said, gesturing a hand towards the Lorax before turning to walk towards the swarm of birds huddled together atop his domicile. Seriously, what was going on? Why was the Once-ler being so secretive all of a sudden? I glanced down at the Lorax before following, leaving the furry guy to stand where he was in the grass.

"Mind if I visit for a while?" I asked as I caught up to the Once-ler. He thought for a moment, his mind clearly wandering elsewhere.

"I don't think so, Ted. Not tonight, I'm tired. If you come back tomorrow, we'll go visit the Bar-ba-loots you're so keen on seeing."

"All right," I said; content with the compromise. As we walked up to the steps of the porch, I tilted my head back as far as it would go to get a better look at the Swomee-Swans. They stared right back down at me. If I hadn't known better, I could've sworn that they looked sad.

"Umm, Once-ler?"

"Yes?" I pointed upwards at the birds. He stepped off of the porch and gazed up at them as well. I watched his expression carefully. He was obviously seeing the same look of emotion in them as I saw, and he smiled slightly. It didn't look like a very happy smile, though, and that bothered me.

"Don't be sad," he said to the Swans. I gave him a dumbfounded look which doubled when I saw what the Swomee-Swans did. _They_ smiled. I'll admit, their smiles looked half-hearted, but they seemed to be doing it in response to his request. The Once-ler noticed my expression and chuckled.

"They _can_ understand us, Ted," he said, reaching over and closing my jaw for me.

"B...but..." I stammered. How? How could they understand human language? Well, I suppose if I can believe that the Lorax exists, I can believe this, but... but still! The Once-ler patted me on the head as he walked back up onto his porch.

"Don't think on it too hard, Ted, you'll fry your brain." He opened the door with a slight cough, clearing his throat before entering his Lurkim.

"See you tomorrow," he said, closing the door lightly behind him.

"Yeah, uh, right!" I said, coming back to myself. "Tomorrow!" Turning around, I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of the Lorax standing right behind me.

"Geez, don't do that!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. It was completely dark by now – only the moon and stars managed to cast any light – and I could barely make out his features, but the tone of his voice seemed a bit off. The lamp clicked on in the uppermost section of the Lurkim, the shutters blocking the majority of its glow from seeking freedom in the outside world. The Lorax gazed up at the lights for a moment before telling me that I ought to get home. I nodded, heading back towards my one-wheeler with the furry orange fuzz ball following. As I buckled my helmet, I felt that I just had to ask the question that had been eating at me since my arrival.

"What were you two talking about?"

"When?"

"When I found you guys down by the river."

"Uh, nothing... well, I'd better not say."

"Why not?" He hesitated in answer. Was it something that I wasn't supposed to know? In all truth, this whole visit had been one strange occurrence after another. There was something up here, and I was honestly getting a bit worried.

I could tell that I had really put the Lorax on the spot, and he hadn't a clue as to what he should say. I sighed.

"Never mind," I said, "I'll ask Once-ler tomorrow if you don't want to say." I started up the engine and secured my goggles over my eyes.

"See ya!" I said, starting out towards the path leading to the road. As I drove off, I heard the Lorax say quietly:

"He won't tell you."

* * *

That night as I lay in bed, I couldn't seem to find it within me to fall asleep. The ability to close my eyes seemed like an eternity of eyelid aerobics away, and my mind continued to wander without a single thought settling on the concept of rest. I kept repeating everything in my head, sorting through the events of that visit with the hope of finding some sort of inconsistency, _something_ to give me a straight-forward clue. Giving up on the notion of sleep, I pulled off the covers and padded over to my desk, slumping down in the chair and turning on the lamp. I pulled out a piece of paper and snatched a pen from my cup of random knick-knacks that sat on one of the desk shelves. I thought perhaps it would make more sense to me if I had a visual aid, so I began to write a list:

There was the initial argument: The Lorax was obviously upset about something, and he seemed to have been a bit bothered by my appearance, whereas the Once-ler seemed relieved.

The look the Lorax gave the Once-ler: It was the kind of look that promised they weren't done with their discussion, ergo; it was something of high importance.

The Swomee-Swan roof brigade: No idea.

The Lorax mentioning the Swomee-Swan's intuitiveness: The Lorax and the Swomee-Swans both know what's happening, but I'm positive the Swans weren't told, and the Lorax was.

The Once-ler stopping the Lorax from saying anything further: This proves that whatever the Swans were picking up on, it's the same thing that the Lorax and Once-ler were talking about when I arrived.

The Swomee-Swans looked sad: Whatever they know doesn't please them in the least.

The Once-ler told them not to be sad and the Swans tried to smile: Whatever doesn't please the Swans has something to do with Once-ler. So that's why they gathered on his roof.

...

I sat there for a while, attempting to think of anything I might have missed. After the whole Swomee-Swan bit, Once-ler just went back into his Lurkim. He went up the steps, opened the door, cleared his throat... no, he coughed and then cleared his throat...

That was it! He _coughed_! I mean, it's not like he's never coughed before, he does it all the time; but the fact that he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat made absolutely no sense! He had no reason. He'd been secretive throughout the entire evening, and he was trying to be secretive about coughing. That was the connection I was looking for! If not for that simple fact of secrecy, the two pieces of the puzzle would have remained in existence as completely separate occurrences.

Perhaps he's been sick and he doesn't want me to know? No, he's been sick before and I've known. And that doesn't explain the whole Swomee-Swan thing. What would make the Swomee-Swans sad? I felt as though I knew the answer, but I certainly wasn't about to consider it as a possibility. Unfortunately, all the facts that I'd written down seemed to point in that general direction. I ripped the paper in half and tossed it into the waste basket as I wandered back over to my bed; finally feeling sufficiently fatigued enough to fall asleep. I tried not to think too hard; the Once-ler would prove me wrong when I went to visit in the morning.

* * *

"Why so glum, Ted honey?" I sat down in my chair at the table, sparing my mom a glance before snatching up the cereal box.

"Hm?" I feigned ignorance as to what she was talking about. I _was_ feeling rather glum, but she didn't need to know.

"No... no I'm just tired," I said. "I'm not all that hungry either, y'know? I think I'll just uh, head out if you don't mind..." I stood from the table and made for the door, but my mom caught me mid-stride.

"Ah ah," she said, wagging a finger in front of my face. "You're not going anywhere. Sounds to me like you're getting a cold, mister." With that, she placed a hand on my forehead, then on my cheek, then back on my forehead as she felt for the slightest sign of a temperature. Grammy snatched the hand away, allowing me to sneak out of my mother's clutches while she was distracted.

"He's not sick," Grammy said with a sly grin. "He's just trying to get out of telling you about his 'teen problems'." She whispered the last two words conspiratorially.

"Oh," mom said, turning my way again, but by that time I was already stepping out the door, Grammy winking at me as I left. I hopped onto my one-wheeler and was on my way.

I saw the Swomee-Swans before I saw the Lurkim. There seemed to be even more of the birds now than there was yesterday. They had taken to sitting themselves down in the grass around the porch as well as on the roof, and a few wandered about aimlessly amongst the trees. I pulled up to the steps and climbed down from my ride, still wary of the booby trap when I rang the doorbell. I leapt out of the way, the Swomee-Swans staring at me warily before going back to their own business. I turned to face the imminent disaster area left by the trap, only, there wasn't one. The door remained closed and sledge-hammer free; and the wooden plank was still sitting in its proper place. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing the tall figure of the Once-ler. He grinned at the surprised look on my face as he stepped out, showing me the opposite side of the door. The trap was gone.

"I thought I'd take it down, finally," he said. "It was fun while it lasted."

"How long did that take?"

"I don't know, about an hour. I set it off once by accident. One of the poor Swomee-Swans was on the other side at the time." I took a moment to visualize how a Swomee-Swan would react to suddenly being flung through the air.

"What happened?"

"Went flying. Hasn't stopped yet, either. He refuses to land until he's positive that the trap's gone." The Once-ler answered, pointing up. I looked in the direction he indicated, noting the single Swan flying in circles above the Lurkim, eyeing us suspiciously. I couldn't help but laugh at its indignant manner. The Once-ler smiled, closing the door and stepping down off of the porch as I followed close on his heels. We walked on in silence for a while, heading in a direction that I had never been before. I assumed he was taking me to see the Bar-ba-loots. I ran my hands through the soft Truffula tufts as we passed them, the smell of butterfly's milk engulfing my senses. I admit that I really didn't know what butterfly's milk actually smelled like, but if I did, I was sure it would smell a lot like this. The Once-ler coughed into his glove, and that snapped me straight out of my blissful state. I remembered the question that I wanted to ask, but I felt as though I really didn't want to ask it now. What if I was wrong and he took offense? The thought was bugging me, though, and if I didn't ask it would plague me for nights to come.

"Um, Once-ler?" I started timidly.

"Hm?" he asked, looking down at me.

"Um, I really don't know how to ask this, but, uhhh..." I trailed off. The Once-ler waited patiently for me to continue. Unfortunately, I really couldn't find the nerve.

"Go ahead, Ted. I promise I'll give you an honest answer," he said.

"Are... are you... dying?"

"Yes, Ted. I'm dying."

I stopped in my tracks, staring at him in disbelief. I had really hoped that I was wrong; that I was simply blowing my assumptions way out of proportion and that he'd perhaps tell me off for even thinking such a thing. Instead, he just calmly stated the very last thing that I could ever hope to hear.

The Once-ler walked on for a few more steps before noticing that I was lagging behind. He turned to face me, noting my expression with a sigh.

"But..." I started, unable to finish my thought. I couldn't keep the tears from welling up in my eyes, though I'd be damned if I ever let them fall. The Once-ler strolled back over to me, his voice going soft as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"It's all right, Ted," he said softly, smiling sadly.

"No it's not..." I answered. "I... I mean, you can't." With that, the tears came, and I swiped at them angrily for betraying me. The Once-ler sat down in the grass beside me, silently urging me to do the same. I complied without a fuss.

"Ted," he started after a while, "I know it's going to be hard, but, well... these things happen."

"I know," I said. "But it's not fair..." At this, the Once-ler almost laughed, breaking into a cough not long after.

"That's almost exactly what the Lorax said," he related after the coughing had ceased.

"I guess he was upset about it too?"

"Yes. Thing is, I get the feeling it'll be tougher on him than you in the long run. You might find that hard to believe, but his concept of time is far different than how we perceive it."

"How does he think of it?"

"Well, let's just say that if I were to live for a hundred years, he would consider me still an infant. He lives and breathes his role as guardian of the trees, Ted. Trees live for thousands of years, and he didn't understand that human life spans were any different until I told him."

We were quiet for a while, gazing at the deceptively beautiful scenery around us. Everything about the place looked so cruelly serene, even the Once-ler. He seemed content and happy as he looked around, I would even go so far as to say healthy. There was only the slightest hint of sadness in his demeanor, as though his only regret in leaving the world would be that he hadn't seen the trees grow back to their previous height and splendour.

"When did you find out?" I asked into the silence. My tears were long gone, but the overwhelming emotions that coursed through my veins refused to let up. He thought for a moment.

"A few days ago, I think. I can't say exactly when."

"Aren't you scared?"

"I suppose so." He answered, beginning to stand. He was having a bit of difficulty with it, so I scrambled to my feet and took his arm to support him.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, shall we go visit the Bar-ba-loots?" I nodded, and we were off. In a few paltry minutes, we arrived in a sort of clearing with a few trees dotted here and there, some of them already bearing fruit. The Once-ler picked one of the purplish things from a tree and handed it to me, urging me to try it. I looked it over cautiously before taking a bite. The Once-ler grinned at my reaction. It was just as delicious as he described it in the story he'd told me when we first met! That seemed like such a long time ago, but it had only been about a year and a half... I shook my head against the gloomy thoughts that tried to overtake my mind. Luckily, I was soon distracted by a high-pitched squeak coming from a bush to my right.

The Once-ler laughed and put a gloved hand in his pocket, pulling it out to reveal a squishy white marshmallow. He held it in the direction of the bush before tossing it to the ground. Moments later, a small, brown, little bear-like creature stepped out on all fours, eyeing me warily as it crawled towards the marshmallow treat.

"It's okay, Minnie," The Once-ler said kindly to the tiny bear-thing. "He's a friend, you can trust him." And with that reassurance, 'Minnie' snatched the marshmallow up from the ground and walked right over to me, smiling widely. The cub nibbled quietly on the marshmallow as it stared into my eyes. After a while, it tugged lightly on the leg of my jeans.

"She wants you to scratch her behind the ears," the Once-ler said.

"Oh." I leaned down, patting her gently on the top of the head before scratching the sensitive spot behind her small round ears. She was a cute little thing, completely covered in brown fur apart from the little white patch on her nose.

"Minnie," the Once-ler said, "Could you find your grandpa for me?" The little bear-thing perked up as if he had asked her to do the most wonderful thing in the world. She finished off the last bits of marshmallow and ran off into the trees.

"That was...?"

"A Bar-ba-loot, yes."

Minnie came tumbling back into the meager clearing, running up to the Once-ler happily and hugging his leg.

"Good girl," Once-ler said, handing her another marshmallow and stroking her fur as a larger Bar-ba-loot wandered into view. He must have been Minnie's grandpa. He moved slowly, covered from head to toe in greying fur apart from the white patch on his chest. Despite his age, he was still peppy in his step and his face expressed the simple joy of living. He reminded me of the Once-ler. The grandpa Bar-ba-loot spotted my companion and his face instantly lit up with a big, toothy smile. He sauntered over and attacked the Once-ler's other leg with a hug; at least we now knew where Minnie got it from.

"Hey, Pipsqueak!" The Once-ler said, smiling down at the elderly Bar-ba-loot. At this, Pipsqueak backed up and scrutinized the Once-ler up and down before staring questioningly into his eyes.

"I'm afraid so," the Once-ler said. Pipsqueak seemed to deflate at the comment, giving the Once-ler the most adorable puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. Minnie looked at her grandpa, confused.

"Don't be upset, though," the Once-ler continued. "Now you've got Ted here to look after you." He said, gesturing my way. Pipsqueak looked in my direction, noticing me for the first time. He looked back at the Once-ler again before walking over to me.

"H-hello," I said, because I really didn't know what else to say to a Bar-ba-loot. Pipsqueak smiled widely at me, and it reminded me of the Once-ler's description of him in the story. I tried to think of what the little guy looked like when he was still a mischievous little cub.

We stayed with the two Bar-ba-loots for an hour or so before heading back to the Lurkim. My eyes had welled up again when the Once-ler had said his goodbyes to Minnie and Pipsqueak, and I could still feel the odd tear sliding down my cheek. I once again blamed my tears for my sadness, and couldn't help becoming frustrated at their persistence in plaguing my eyes. When we reached his Lurkim, the Once-ler admitted that he was tired, but I refused to let him go to bed. I was too scared. So we sat out on the porch, the horde of Swomee-Swans staring at us from the roof like an omen. I willed them to go away, but they remained.

The Once-ler and I sat and talked until the sun went down, but I still refused to go. I didn't want to leave. The Once-ler had to call the Lorax for help in physically lifting me onto my one-wheeler before I finally resigned myself to heading back home.

I visited every day after that until he died.

I wasn't there when it happened, and the Lorax later told me that the Once-ler had been happy about that. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't forget that I was really never going to see him again. I still thought it was unfair; he'd lived most of his life alone in a wasteland, a wasteland that reminded him constantly of his past mistakes, and less than two years after he'd finally found peace of mind, he was gone. For days, I was depressed. For weeks, I was angry. Then the package came. It was from the Once-ler, dated a month previous, and it was rather large to say the least. I didn't want to open it, for fear of what it might be. I wouldn't open it, I refused. Unfortunately, I didn't seem to have much of a will of my own in the matter.

I took a pair of scissors from my desk and cut the packaging tape from the top, pulling back the flaps. What looked like a very, _very_ long essay was the first thing I saw. It only took me a few lines of reading before I figured out what it was. The story; the whole thing handwritten on a stack of plain white paper. Every detail was as I remembered it, right down to the Bar-ba-loots' initial reaction to the marshmallows. I read it all on the spot, crying my eyes out as I imagined the Once-ler as a young man again; still alive and chatting with the Lorax over random little things that really had no value apart from conversational material.

I set the papers down and peered into the large box, wiping the tears from my eyes as I seemed to do so often lately. Inside was a worn, black, taped-up electric guitar and a dusty grey fedora.

"Thank you," I whispered, removing the items from the box and setting the fedora on the desk as my fingers plucked away at the un-tuned strings of the guitar. Glancing back at the stack of papers, I began to strum out a tune:

_"Do you remember the Once-ler?_

_Saw the world as his to take,_

_Said 'I really only fractured'_

_The rules that we made to break..."_

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you have it. Hope you liked it. The song at the end is 'The Once-ler' by Solving for X. Let me know what you think!**


End file.
